Drenched In Vanilla Twilight
by tardisstealer
Summary: 'So for now it's just me and you whispering to each other, sitting looking out at New York City, drenched in vanilla twilight from the moon that hung above us.'


**Drenched In Vanilla Twilight**

**I had some Brittana feelings and I had to get them out so this is the result :3**

My eyes stung as the memories that your scent surrounding me bought back, drifted through my head. Some unwanted but most treasured and locked securely in the special place you did and would always occupy in my heart. It's been awhile, I thought to myself, hoping you could hear. The tears brushing my face felt alien. Like they didn't belong there, perhaps that was true, after all I hardly ever cried but after all, life had hardly ever been this unfair to me.

'Life's a bitch.' you used to say, until you noticed me pouting and would add, 'But at least it gave me you.' You'd say it with a laugh because I knew how embarrassed you got when you said cute things like that but it didn't matter 'cause I knew you really did mean it. And you knew I felt the exact same way, until now. Because death took you from me as easily as life gave you to me so now life's just a bitch again.

I can smell you so clearly in this room, our room. So clearly that if I closed my eyes for just a second I could imagine you were still here, lying with me and talking after a tough day at work or singing to me if I couldn't sleep. But I'd only be allowed this luxury for a second because a second later reality would hit me with a shocking harshness that was hard to put into words.

The duvet on our bed is exactly how we left it that morning months earlier, the creases still sharp and evident. You had always moaned at me to iron the duvet cover but I hadn't seen the point, 'After all,' I had reasoned with you, 'It'll only get creases in it again straight away.' You sighed, you were annoyed because you couldn't find an argument against my simple logic, and the Santana everyone else knew always got the last word. But nobody else ever got the chance to see the Santana you showed me. The adorable one who I could always persuade to do what I wanted. The one who was brave enough for the both of us when things got hard sometimes.

It hurts; feeling like half of you will be forever aching for the other half to return at the same time as knowing that will never be possible. It feels like when you miss a step on the stairs and you think you're about to die but then you find the next step beneath your feet and realise everything's okay. You're that step San, and now everyday I get that feeling and you're not here to stop it.

People said the first night would be the hardest, they lied. The numbness stopped it being the hardest. At first it felt strange, like I knew you weren't there but I kept forgetting why you weren't coming back. It became hard at 2 o'clock in the morning when I had spent the past few hours sitting next to our bed being constantly reminded of your absence by your empty space in our bed, as if it was taunting me. So I got up and I walked up to the roof of our apartment block. I don't know if it was my body initiating some kind of subconscious suicide mission on my behalf or simply the desire to be free from our empty apartment that meant so little to me without you there. Maybe a bit of both, either way I found myself on the roof. The sky was still fairly dark and the moon was bright in contrast. I always thought it looked like a giant light bulb, you had agreed. I spent a long time just sitting there looking out at New York City at night, I remember when you had called this view magical and I had grinned at you and laughed, Santana Lopez was turning soft. You blamed me for that, which I took as a compliment.

You loved New York; one time you told me it was your favourite place in the world. 'What happened to Breadstix being your favourite place in the world?' I had asked in mock horror. 'Breadstix ain't got nothing on New York City!' you replied in your Lima Heights voice as I liked to call it. You were so happy here. The happiest I had ever seen you. And so was I. New York was so different to Lima, in the beginning it felt weird finally being able to do simple things like walking down the street holding hands or kissing out in public. Weird in a good way, you had been unsure, I know it was hard for you to just let go and be able to enjoy having freedom in your actions for once but we both got used to it pretty quickly. New York was like a breath of fresh air.

I don't know if the fact that I know you were happy months, weeks, days before you died makes it easier to cope with. You deserved to get a chance to be happier for longer; we deserved to just be together for longer. It's not getting easier either, the days go on in and they don't really mean much now. It's almost Christmas and I don't even care, we had plans, we promised each other we'd make it our best Christmas yet. I'm sorry I can't keep that promise San. I say sorry everyday, sorry that I can't be next to you anymore, to hold your hand when you're nervous or scared, I'm sorry I couldn't prevent this, it happened too quickly and by the time the doctors knew what was wrong they said it was already too late and I'm sorry I can't whisper, 'I love you.' to you just one more time.

I'm glad I found you San. It was fate you know, I know you don't believe in that kind of stuff but I think even you knew we were fate, deep down. We were one of those lucky people who found their soul mate, even if it wasn't for long enough. That's me and you San, soul mates. We always have been and we always will be.

I want to try and stay happy for you even though you should be here being happy for yourself.

I miss you San. More than I ever thought it was possible to miss anyone. I miss you whispering, 'Te amo con todo mi corazón mi amor.' to me every night, I miss your hand that fitted perfectly around mine, I miss the weekends that we would spend in bed together doing nothing, I miss waking up at the exact same time as you and laughing at how in sync we were, I just miss not having you here.

I'm back up sitting on the roof tonight, it's snowing lightly and the sky is dark again. I'm sitting here wondering what the moon tastes like and wishing you were here to tell me what you think. You'd probably say something yummy like vanilla ice cream and I would agree and ask if we could have some ice cream even though it's snowing and I'm sitting here shivering. I sometimes wonder if this was how life was going to be from now on, me just imagining moments we could've had together, word for word. It's probably not healthy to live like that but I don't care. I miss you too much to care anymore. So for now it's just me and you whispering to each other, sitting looking out at New York City, drenched in vanilla twilight from the moon that hung above us.

**I've wanted to write a Brittana fanfic like this for awhile, so I hope you don't think it sucks too much O_o Thanks for reading :3**


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